A lamppost named Mark

this is the forth installment– read from the beginning.

by Paul-Newell Reaves

Sideways eights and
upside-down sevens,
sine-curving arrows,
evolutionary rocks:
perhaps the Lamppost’s name 
was Mark.
But many that are first shall be last;
and the last first.

(Not long ago, on the Isle of Mann—
rising above the Irish Sea—
refusing the yellow rose, my hand,
Anna turned her shoulder on me.
Now as I swim, I dream of land,
sifting from darkest depths of memory.
Read one more chapter, if you can—
you’ll get to hear more of the Lamppost’s story:)

Fan Voting now ongoing for 2020 FLASH SUITE Contest
More Books/ home

Facebooktwitterlinkedinrssby feather
Facebooktwitterredditpinterestlinkedintumblrmailby feather

Leave a Reply

Welcome to
Defenestrationism reality.

Read full projects from our
retro navigation panel, left,
or start with What’s New.